Sunday, 23 February 2014

Last yesterday I was sitting very much within my abode-residence when I realised that The Archbishop of Canterbury was loitering in the lounge. When I enquired why he was trespassing in this way he said he was the Archbishop of Canterbury and could do what he liked. He then told me in no uncertain terms that 'Come Dine With Me' was on at any minute and no way would he leave until he had watched it. Fearing for his sanity, I recommended a local doctor. Surprisingly pleased with this suggestion, The Archbishop shook my hand and offered me the use of Canterbury whenever I needed it. An unusual evening, then, but one not without its Archbishop of Canterburys.

Sunday, 16 February 2014

Yesterday(yesterday) I visited the Museum of Ironing Boards in West Northeastshire. They had ironing boards the like of which I had never seen before or since. One ironing board was made out of old mattresses which meant that the ironee could have a quick kip afterwards. Another board was balanced on a tightrope several miles above the ground to give the ironing experience a sense of danger. Never had I seen such an ironic display. I certainly recommend the museum if you are studying ironing, and further details can be gleaned from visiting www.the-museum-of-ironing-boards-in-west-northeastshire.co.uk.com.org.ac.uk..com.co.com.com.dot.com.yesterday.com.com.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Yesterday morning, or was it last year (I can never remember), I went to Tim Fotheringale's mother's uncle's neighbour's father's house. It was nice to see Tim's mother's uncle's neighbour's father again, as he has been a good friend to me since I was a thing. He is a charming host, despite his tendency to throw biscuit tins at my head. He has been to see the doctor about this, who told him to leave as he kept throwing biscuit tins at his head as well. All in all, he keeps throwing biscuit tins at people's heads.

What I really wanted to ask him about was his experience of clog dancing, which I am studying at Weirdshoe University. Kindly, he told me everything he knew about it, although only in Morse Code so, as he said, the information wouldn't 'fall into the wrong feet.' I knew very little in the way of Morse, so decided to stop off at the local Code Cracking Centre on the way home. They were shut. Ah well, such is the way of the world and other similar places such as Bolton, and of course, Weybridge.